


runaway baby.

by akechi



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Blowjobs, Couch Sex, Deepthroating, Hook-Up, M/M, No Metaverse (Persona 5), Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom, Riding, Smut, Stranger Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-02
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 09:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14829383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akechi/pseuds/akechi
Summary: Goro meets a stranger with the face of an angel.But little does he know.





	runaway baby.

**Author's Note:**

> @ akechi — happy birthday, you bastard.
> 
> i was too lazy to proofread it, so please ignore any mistakes.

Akechi tugs at the collar of his stainless white shirt, loosening the grey tie latching on in an attempt to get rid of the suffocating feeling. It doesn’t help all too much, but it does make it that much easier to breathe.  
  
He never really fancied settings like this—settings where the music is too loud, the people are too drunk, and the air too heavy. Under normal circumstances, he’d never choose a scene like this. But his job is far too important for him to be hindered by his disinterests.   
  
It was a last minute call, really. He’d just been climbing into bed, calling it a day, when he’d received a call from his superior. He’d heard whispers about this notorious pest at his workplace, but he’d never expected to be set out on this mission, considering he’s still just a newbie. But he isn’t complaining—a job like this; he has to have impressed a higher up to be assigned to something like this so early into his career. It has got to be good for him, he tells himself, running his finger along the rim of the untouched margarita.   
  
Akechi doesn’t plan on drinking tonight; the drink itself just sitting there to serve as an accessory. With the multi-colored lights not far behind him flicking blindingly, the booming music of the club beating at his ears, Akechi digs his phone out from his pocket. He skims over the message again for the third time that night, which doesn’t help anymore than it did the first time. The bastard’s damn good at his job, covering his tracks like a pro and leaving no traces behind. All they’ve got on him, as far as Akechi knows, is that he’s tough to track down. This nightclub is their only lead.   
  
Akechi shoves his phone back into his blazer pocket without another thought. Heaving a sigh, he takes a sip of his drink out of mere courtesy before tipping the bartender with a smile. He spins around in his barstool, taking in the sight of the crowded nightclub.   
  
It makes him sick to watch the sweaty bodies grinding and dancing against one another, painfully so, but he forces himself to examine the crowd for anyone who might stick out. It’s hard to see much under these flashy lights, harder to see because of the dimness of the club, but he’ll manage, he thinks—he has to.   
  
Akechi bites the inside of his cheek to refrain the sigh that threatens to heave, instead bouncing onto his feet to move about the dancefloor. It reeks of alcohol and bodily fluids, of bad breaths and the vague stench of vomit. If he was still the seventeen year old detective he used to be, he would’ve laughed at the idiocy displayed in front of him.   
  
Instead, he pushes through the crowd without a single excuse me —they’ve got to be far too drunk to care about politeness. Laughter and slurred words ring in his ears, moans and giggles not far behind. He doesn’t want to think about the cause of those noises.   
  


\+ + +

  
Akechi circles the club, questioning groups of people a time but it appears that they don’t take kindly to authority. That kind of treatment isn’t foreign to him, but it does mess with his investigation. He bites back a frustrated groan as he slides into one of the booths on the sidelines. He runs a hand through his hair, trying and struggling to come up with a reasonable plan. His thought process is interrupted when a shot glass slides in front of him. Akechi looks up at the source and immediately feels something in him flutter.   
  
_Gorgeous_ is the first word that crosses his mind.   
  
“Hey, you look like you can use a drink,” the young man says, smiling politely.   
  
Akechi narrows his eyes in suspicion, examining the man up and down. While the situation seems entirely sketchy, the stranger looks genuine enough. On the off chance that he’s simply being hit on and not a potential victim to some drug, Akechi smiles back just as politely. “Is that your best attempt at a pickup line?” he dares with a glint in his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips.   
  
The stranger laughs as he takes the seat in front of him, resting his elbows on the table with a grin. “Didn’t wanna overdo it, y’know? Couldn’t tell if you’d appreciate being hit on by a man.”   
  
Akechi has to admit; the guy’s a smooth talker and he’s not opposed of falling victim to those words.   
  
Akechi leans forward, smirk remaining in its place, and takes the glass into his hand. “How can I possibly turn down someone so handsome?” he asks quite boldly as he brings the glass up to his lips. He runs his tongue across the rim of the glass, eyes never leaving the pair in front of him as he makes a show of what he’s potentially seeking.   
  
Akechi can see those dark pair of eyes locked on his mouth, the man seeming completely mesmerized and he knows he’s won. The corner of his lips quirk up and he takes a sip of the drink slowly before setting it down. “The name’s Akechi, by the way—Akechi Goro,” he says, holding his hand out over the table.   
  
It takes a second for the young man to break out of his trance. “Akira—Kurusu Akira,” he responds, reaching over to shake Akechi’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”   
  
“The pleasure’s all mine,” Goro replies far too quickly with a squeeze to the slender hand.   
  
“So,” Akira begins, pulling his hand back reluctantly, “You seeing anyone?”   
  
Wow, this guy’s way _too_ forward. Goro isn’t complaining in the slightest.   
  
“Why, are you volunteering?” Akechi raises an eyebrow, smug smile lingering on his lips.   
  
“And if I am?”   
  
_Bold,_ Akechi thinks, _perhaps even_ bolder _than me._   
  
Akechi leans back into his seat, shrugging lazily. “No worries, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,” he answers truthfully. And it isn’t like he has trouble finding a partner—he just doesn’t want to date for the time being, his career being his only priority right now.   
  
But sleeping around—well, that’s not out of the question.   
  
Akechi feels a foot brushing against his own. “Then whaddya say we move somewhere private?” Akira suggests, running his tongue along his bottom lip.   
  
Goro feels his cock twitch in his pants at the suggestion, his breath hitching when he parts his lips to speak. “My apartment’s just around the corner.”   
  


\+ + +

  
Goro decides it’s been far too long since his last fling when a forceful shove pinning him to his door has his cock aching in its confinement. He groans when he feels those tender hands sliding down his back, squeezing his ass and pulling him closer, lips pushing against his own in rough but sweet manners. Goro’s arms snake around Akira’s neck, dragging him closer and kissing him like his life depends on it.   
  
And it feels _so_ good—feels good enough to make him feel like a teenager all over again.   
  
Akechi whines into the kiss that’s lasting a bit too long, but he doesn’t want to pull away; not yet. He makes a note to breathe through his nose, his fingers sliding up to tangle themselves in those black strands. He tugs at them and enjoys the way Akira groans into his mouth as a result of it, pulling away and leaving Goro to whimper pathetically. Goro’s about to complain when Akira drops to his knees, hastily undoing Goro’s trousers.   
  
Goro gasps when Akira takes him in his hand, stroking him lazily before placing a kiss on the tip of his cock. “Oh God,” he whispers, burying his fingers into Akira’s hair and resisting the urge to force his dick down his throat.   
  
Akira stares up at him with those dark grey eyes, licks his lips as if dessert is what he’s waiting take in his mouth. Goro bites his lips, thrusting his hips lightly against Akira’s face as if to encourage him to _just take it already._   
  
Akira complies, running his tongue along the underside of Goro’s cock, licking up till he reaches the tip. He swirls his tongue around the head before wrapping his lips around him. Goro has to remind himself to retain control. As much as he wants to push himself into that wet heat entirely, he has to make sure not to do anything that might hurt Akira.   
  
Thankfully, it doesn’t take Akira long to start bobbing his head, taking Goro wholly into his mouth and sucking like he was made for it.   
  
Goro’s moans slip out embarrassingly, and, if he wasn’t painfully hard, he would’ve cared about how pathetic he sounds. But he doesn’t care enough about that, solely focusing on how good the wet heat surrounding his cock feels—how good _Akira_ feels.   
  
So he makes sure to tell him in the form of a cry, “You’re so fucking good.”   
  
And he gasps when Akira takes him into his throat, shudders when he feels Akira’s nose brush over the hair above his cock. “God,” he sighs, “it’s like you were made to suck cock.” Akira merely lets out a muffled chuckle, the vibrations of the sound sending shivers up Goro’s spine.   
  
Akira pulls off just to swirl his tongue around the organ, but Goro has another plan in mind.   
  
He yanks Akira off his cock, the latter looking up like a confused puppy. The detective smirks as he pulls Akira up onto his feet. “Let’s move to the couch,” he suggests, gesturing to the piece of furniture sitting in the middle of the room. Akira merely nods, doing as Goro says.   
  
“Lay down,” Goro commands, and Akira does so despite not knowing what the other has in store for him. Goro pulls the man up onto the armrest, his head hanging while his shoulder blades just barely rest there.   
  
“Open up,” he commands, gently tapping at Akira’s cheek.   
  
The look on Akira’s face tells Goro he finally got the clue and his mouth falls open almost eagerly. “Good boy,” Goro purrs, holding Akira’s face in place while he slowly feeds him his cock, inch by inch.   
  
Akira hums against the sex organ appreciatively, stretching his arms back to hold onto Goro’s backside, dragging him closer and taking him deeper into his throat. Goro groans at the sensation and his fingernails dig into the skin of Akira’s throat.   
  
“I’m going to fuck your mouth, okay?” Goro asks, perhaps simply to clarify.   
  
Akira nods—well, at least as best as he can with a cock down his throat—while simultaneously making an effort not to gag. Goro pulls his dick out momentarily to allow Akira a breath before he’s pushing himself back in.   
  
In, out, in, out, in out—Akechi moves rhythmically, thrusting in and out until tears form in Akira’s eyes and then he grants him another breath with a stroke against his cheek. “You’re such a good boy,” he whispers and Akira whines at those sweet _sweet_ words, “So obedient.”   
  
Akira pants erratically, his hands loosely lingering at Goro’s hips, his eyes red at the corners, half lidded, and his lips wet with saliva. He looks all messed up and Goro’s satisfied knowing he’s the cause of it.   
  
He taps on Akira’s shoulder, gesturing him to sit up, and Akira does so without a question.     
  
Goro kicks off his trousers before walking around and climbing onto the sofa, straddling Akira with an innocent smile. He grabs Akira by the face, not particularly rough, and tilts his head as to scrutinize him. “You know,” he starts, his voice melodic and far too inappropriate for a situation like this. “You were talking real smooth back at the club, but right now…” He pauses and lets out a soft chuckle. “You’re like a pet, completely and utterly obedient. I really didn’t expect this. It’s cute.”   
  
He watches as Akira licks his lips, appearing to search for a witty response to that. “Well, you’re kinda hot when you take control. I don’t mind being your bitch this time.”   
  
Goro laughs louder at the sound of that. “Are you implying there’ll be a next time?” he prods, smiling ear to ear.   
  
“Just hoping,” Akira responds with a shrug. He moves his hands to grip Goro’s waist, pulling him down while grinding up against him.   
  
Goro wraps his arms around Akira’s neck, leaning forward to whisper in the form of a gasp, “Be a good boy and maybe I’ll consider it.”   
  
The words cause Akira to buck his hips again with a desperate mumble of, “Yes, sir.”   
  
Goro allows Akira to rut against him like a dog in heat—it’s only fair after all. The way Akira’s moving against him, frantic and wildly, tells Goro that he’s been dying for some contact.   
  
Goro breathes heavily against Akira’s ear, not making an effort to keep his voice down as he moans and gasps against his skin. “You want to get inside me, don’t you?” he whispers shakily, “There’s lubricant in the drawer behind you. Give it to me.”   
  
Akira looks over his shoulder, the movements of his hips slowing down as he reaches a hand behind to open the drawer. There isn’t much in the drawer, just condoms, sex toys (which Akira makes a note of for next time), and a small container of lube. He hands it to Goro with a raise of his eyebrows. “You just have these things lying around in your living room?” he questions, followed by a soft chuckle.   
  
Goro shrugs as he squeezes lubricant onto his fingers. Akira holds onto Goro’s hips to keep him steady. “Sometimes when I’m getting off, I don’t feel like moving to my room. Is that such a crime?”   
  
“Well, wouldn’t you know, detective?” Akira retorts with a smile.   
  
Goro freezes for a second, confused as to how Akira happens to know about his career, but the thought leaves his mind as quick as it enters when Akira squeezes his ass roughly.   
  
Goro moves a hand behind and Akira withdraws his own pair, shifting them to grip Goro’s thighs instead. Goro licks his lips, eyes trained on Akira, neither his or the other’s averting away. He leans down to take Akira’s lips between his teeth, tugging and licking and kissing him roughly. Meanwhile, His fingers prod at his entrance, circling around the ring of muscles before pushing their way in.   
  
Goro’s almost grateful that he’d played with himself the night before because it makes prepping himself that must easier. It doesn’t take him long to fully get himself ready, and he reluctantly removes his fingers.   
  
Goro pulls away, running his tongue over his lips as he searches Akira’s face. “Condom?” he simply asks.   
  
Akira nods, chewing at his bottom lip, seeming to be completely drawn by Goro’s face. “Front pocket—wallet,” he responds, entirely distrait.   
  
Goro reaches a hand down to Akira’s pocket, wiggling his fingers in and dragging his wallet out. He catches Akira watching him intently as he digs through his wallet. “Is something the matter?’ he asks, not bothering to even look up. “You’ve been staring oddly all night.”   
  
Goro glances at Akira, who simply shakes his head as he says, “It’s just… God, you’re beautiful, you know that? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone nearly as gorgeous as you.”   
  
Akira’s so honest and blunt that it makes Goro’s cheeks flush up a bit. “And you’re fucking embarrassing,” he mumbles, averting his eyes. “You’re exaggerating. Let’s just get a move on, okay?” If there’s anything Goro hates discussing, it’s emotions, specifically his.   
  
Akira complies like he has been all night and Goro appreciates it. Goro moves down to Akira’s thighs, quickly undoing his jeans, desperate to get the man inside him so that all other feelings are out of the way. Akira watches as Goro tears the small square packet and pulls the condom out. The detective wastes no time in slipping it onto Akira and slicking him up.   
  
It isn’t long before Goro’s pushing himself down, taking Akira inch by inch and savoring the feeling of being filled. He spares himself a second to adjust before he’s lifting his hips up and pushing down, hard and deep and entirely merciless, and the pair groans simultaneously at the sensation.   
  
They revel in the feeling momentarily with Goro’s arms encircled around Akira’s neck, the latter holding the detective by his waist. Goro leans down to press his lips against Akira’s, the kiss sweet and chaste, before he starts to actually move.   
  
Goro slams his hips down and Akira thrusts his upward, meeting him _there_ perfectly. The pair pick up the pace, moving completely and utterly in a rhythmic manner. They move so in sync that Goro’s surprised it’s their first time together. They fit like a key and a lock would—like they’re meant for this and this alone.   
  
Goro wishes it’d last forever.   
  
Akira peppers kisses against Goro’s neck, holding him tenderly yet close; like he’s careful not to hurt Goro but doesn’t want to let him go. It’s overwhelming and intimate and Goro feels himself clench against against Akira’s cock.   
  
Goro moves his fingers to tangle them in Akira’s hair, pulling the strands backward so that Akira’s forced to stare at his face. “You feel so fucking good,” Goro whispers, pushing his hips down particularly hard and moaning loudly as if to make a point.   
  
Akira stares at him like he’s prey, hungrily licking his lips and thrusting into him deeply. The pressure and pleasure of it all makes Goro’s insides twist intensely, his cock twitching against his stomach, bobbing as Goro bounces on Akira’s cock.   
  
“I’m close,” Goro tells him, each thrust hitting him overwhelming so.   
  
Akira slows down, causing Goro to whine pathetically and he’s about to ask him _what the hell he’s doing that for_ when Akira flips them over swiftly. And now Goro’s pinned under the man, his legs pushed apart with Akira’s knees and it isn’t long before Akira’s back inside of him, deeper than ever.   
  
Akira pulls out and then thrusts right back in, not even fully removing himself. He fucks Goro harder and deeper than previously and Goro feels himself being filled and unfilled over and over again. _Holy shit_ is all he can muster up, his words cut off by his own moans and gasps.   
  
Akira pushes Goro’s legs apart even further, holding them apart as he fucks into that sloppy heat. Sounds of skin slapping mixed with those spilling from their lips fill the room and it isn’t long before Akira’s coming, spilling into the heat with erratic thrusts and an I’m cumming , the pressure of Akira’s orgasm causing Goro to follow right after. The two merely stay there for seconds, their pants the only remaining sounds occupying the space.   
  
Akira pulls himself out, sitting up lazily to pull the dirtied condom off. Goro can vaguely hear him get up and pad across the room, but he has no energy to see what he’s up to. He lies there feeling utterly tired—a good fuck does that to you—and he doesn’t bother to blame himself for screwing the job up. It’s not like they had any information on the criminal anyways; it was impossible from the beginning, probably.   
  
Goro hears his name being called and he whines at the sound, wanting nothing more than to sleep. Akira returns and Goro grabs him by the wrist, pulling him close. “Carry me to my room, please,” he mumbles, pouting childishly.   
  
Akira merely laughs and goes to do so, picking the detective up bridal style and taking him to his room with Goro’s navigation. He drops Goro onto the bed and contemplates whether he should stay the night or go. All signs tell him to leave, but he so desperately wants to stay.   
  
As if to read his mind, Goro commands, “Stay the night. You owe me.”   
  
Akira chuckles with a raise of his eyebrows. “Owe you? What for?”   
  
Goro sits up on his elbows. “For fucking up my mission, that’s why.”   
  
He probably shouldn’t tell Akira such things, but Akira seemed to already know about his job somehow so it really didn’t matter. Akira flops down next to him, grinning like a complete idiot. “Geez, fine,” he replies, reaching over to run his fingers through Goro’s hair. It’s soft and silky and Akira wants to never pull away.   
  
He watches Goro fall asleep quite easily after that, the sight causing him to smile gently, but said smile quickly turns into a frown.   
  


\+ + +

 

Goro wakes up the next morning aching all over. He whines as he sits up, moving his forearm to cover his face from the blinding sunlight that peers through his window. He looks across the bed, disappointed that Akira is nowhere to be seen, but not surprised at all. He probably had work to get to, anyways.  
  
Goro lazily gets out of bed, and is quick to be drawn by the white folded piece of paper leaning against the lamp on his bedside table. He picks it up with a smile; it’s probably a note from Akira.   
  
But upon reading the words, Goro’s face pales.

  
_i watched you pathetically search for me last night_ _  
__it was really cute and i thought it’d be fun to mess with you_ _  
__though i never expected to have this much fun x_ _  
__let’s play again next time i’m in town, ok? :-)_ _  
_ _yours truly_ <3

 

Akechi crumples the note up and flings it across the floor, angry at himself for being so careless. Despite everything, he’s still left to think about how good the sex was last night and he’s angry at himself _even more_ for thinking about that.   
  
He feels frustrated, utterly and entirely at loss, but he recalls the note again. Disregarding the fact that it could take weeks or months, the fact that he might see Akira again gives him some form of hope. And the next time, he _will_ arrest him.

  
  
**_fin_ ** **_._ **   
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
